


the dog's just an excuse

by Barrhorn



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, in case that's not your thing, spoilers: it's the kids conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barrhorn/pseuds/Barrhorn
Summary: “Hey,” Maggie responds, stepping forward into the room. “So I’ve been thinking about the dog.”The dog in question is still hypothetical, even after two years in this apartment, but that’s one reason why the game is so much fun: talking about the dog is talking about their future. Their future together.





	the dog's just an excuse

Maggie hooks her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans as she stands in the doorway of what is supposed to be their guest room but has been mostly taken over by Kara. Alex is making the bed after Supergirl had been called away in the middle of the night, and Maggie’s just watching, enjoying the soft sound of Alex humming to herself as she smooths the blanket down.

“Hey,” Alex says as she straightens, tucking her hair back from her face.

“Hey,” Maggie responds, stepping forward into the room. “So I’ve been thinking about the dog.”

And Alex smiles, because that’s become a sort of code phrase between them. It was how Alex had brought up the idea of them officially moving in together, because it “wouldn’t be fair” for the dog to have to move between two apartments. They’d explained getting a two bedroom apartment as giving the dog more space, even though they’d both wanted the guest room. It’d been wonderful to host game night and have plenty of spots for people to crash after if they wanted, and if Kara sleeps there more with a bed readily available, well, it just makes their place that more lived in.

The dog in question is still hypothetical, even after two years in this apartment, but that’s one reason why the game is so much fun: talking about the dog is talking about their future. Their future together. And that’s why Maggie’s smiling even though she’s running her hands over her jeans, trying to remove the clammy feeling from her palms.

“What about Gertrude?” Alex teases as she closes the distance between them.

But Maggie refuses to rise to the bait, simply giving her girlfriend a look. Gertrude is a silly name for a dog, an opinion she’d only voiced after Alex was out of that deathtrap. “I was thinking about how our lease is up in five months,” she says. “Maybe we should look for another place?”

Though surprise flashes across Alex’s face, she doesn’t respond immediately, just watching Maggie for a moment before reaching out and taking her hand, her thumb stroking the backs of her fingers. “And what would you want in this new place?”

“A yard.” Maggie pauses as that surprise returns, showing itself in the way Alex’s eyebrows rise.

“A house?” Alex asks softly, little more than an exhale. But her thumb doesn’t still, and Maggie nods.

“Yeah. With a fenced in yard.” She keeps her tone brisk, almost business like, but she can feel a smile tugging at her lips and doesn’t fight it, letting herself imagine the scene as she speaks. “It’d be a good idea with our work schedules. We could let the dog outside and she could run around and we could play fetch. Let her get some more exercise on the days we can’t get her to the dog park.”

Alex is watching her, smiling back (Maggie knows full well that Alex cannot resist the dimples that are now showing), but her eyes still hold more concentration than anything else. She knows that there’s something else hiding behind Maggie’s words; she just hasn’t figured it out yet. “Tell me more about this house,” she says.

And Maggie’s heart swells because yes, Alex is digging for more information to this puzzle, but Alex is also _listening_ , and she can tell that Alex is starting to picture it as well. “I think it would be fun. Arguing not just about furniture but what color the walls should be. Being able to change whatever we want and make our home exactly how we like.” She thinks she will never, ever, get tired of referring to their place as home. “And maybe we could get something slightly bigger than this?”

When Alex purses her lips and glances away, Maggie can only tell that she’s concentrating on a thought, but not how she’s reacting to it, and she starts to worry. Had she figured it out? …Had she figured it out and not liked it?

But then Alex is looking back at her. “Would this fence happen to be of the white picket variety?”

Maggie can’t help but laugh. “I hope not.”

“Cause, you know,” Alex says, and there’s this drawl to her words that tells Maggie she _knows_ , and anticipation stills her breath. “There’s this thing about people with a house and a fence and a dog…”

She waits out the pause as much as she can, but Alex is smirking at her rather than talking and Maggie just can’t wait any longer. “And what’s that?”

What she doesn’t expect is the way Alex closes the distance between them as she clearly bites her cheek to restrain her smile. What she doesn’t expect is the way Alex cups her face in both hands or the soft look in her eyes. “Maggie,” she says quietly, “have you ever thought about having kids?”

And Maggie thinks it’s a little ridiculous how her heart stutters over the question, how it takes her a moment to find words. Because she’s been thinking about it a lot recently; because she’s the one that just raised the topic (however vaguely). But she knows that it’s not the subject that steals her breath: it’s how brave Alex is, as always, how she’s able to say things outright. Over the past few years, Maggie has learned to be brave with Alex, for Alex. Has learned that she can think about their shared future, all those maybes and somedays. She can cherish those thoughts, hold them close without worrying that it will all be torn from her.

(Some days it’s harder. Some nights she lies awake as the doubt creeps back in, reminding her of the look on her ex’s face when she said Maggie didn’t deserve to be happy. Some nights Alex’s warmth and quiet breathing next to her are almost painful, almost terrifying, in that it’s all too-good-to-be-true and therefore must somehow be doomed. The next morning she’ll wake up like from a bad dream and trail her fingers over Alex’s skin, press a kiss into her hair, breathe her in, and remind herself that this is real.)

And so maybe some days she has to couch her language more than Alex would. Some days she has to speak of those things closest to her heart in an off-hand manner, like they’re nothing more than afterthoughts. So that maybe Alex won’t realize just how much of herself Maggie is revealing.

(Somehow, Alex always knows.)

Maggie wraps her arms around Alex’s waist. “Yes,” she answers finally, because she _has_ thought about having kids with Alex, has pictured it more vividly than she’s comfortable admitting right now, even with the way Alex’s whole face lights up at that one word. “Not yet, but someday.” She leans forward into Alex, who lets her arms drape around Maggie’s shoulders. “It’s something to keep in mind for when we move next.”

She feels Alex’s hum of agreement and the kiss that’s placed against the side of her head. They stay like that for a moment before Alex’s chest expands in a deep breath. “So, umm,” is all she manages to get out, her tone tilting up at the end, fingers starting to nervously curl through Maggie’s hair.

“Yes?”

Another deep breath that Maggie feels against her own chest. “Two kids?” Alex asks, and Maggie pulls back enough to see the wide-eyed hope with which Alex is watching her. And it takes no effort at all to realize that Alex is thinking of Kara and of how close the two of them are, and Maggie loves her for already wanting to give one of the best things in her life to their children.

“Sounds great, Danvers,” Maggie says, almost unable to complete the words before Alex is pulling her into a searing kiss.

Which is how their first conversation about kids ends: with Maggie pressing Alex backwards until she falls onto the bed, with Maggie crawling on top of her and laughing at the way Alex pretends to grumble over how she just made the bed, thank you very much. Maggie leans forward and breathes a promise to make it up to her into her ear, and Alex’s hands sneak under Maggie's shirt to rest against the skin of her back.

After all, they can continue the discussion later.


End file.
